


You're more than I can take

by Miralana



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Hate Sex, Jealousy, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Relationship, Rafe Adler's Abandonment Issues, Slut Shaming, Verbal Humiliation, Why Did I Write This?, everything is consensual!, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 06:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7564132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miralana/pseuds/Miralana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rafe stops and rakes his fingers through his hair. “I don’t get why that couldn’t be enough for you.”<br/>“Because you’re not Nathan Drake,” Sam simply says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're more than I can take

“It’s getting dark,“ Nadine says and a nerve twitches under Rafe’s eye.

“We don’t have time-“

“My men are exhausted. I am exhausted. He-“ she points her gun at Sam. “Needs medical attention if we don’t want him to die before leading us to the treasure.” She doesn’t mention that while Sam’s wound is incapacitated him, it’s not life threatening, just like she doesn’t say that Rafe looks like he can’t hold himself up any longer, but they all know it’s true. Sam would love to point it out, but Rafe has been on edge since … well since Sam jumped him after Nate fell. He refuses to believe that Nate is dead, he knows his brother and he knows that he will pull through.

“Fine,” Rafe agrees and Nadine gives her soldiers the order to gather inside the mansion – the one of Thomas Tew, as far as Sam can tell – and someone pushes him forward and inside.

They don’t let him take a look at the ingenious architecture, or the beautiful ornaments on the walls, but just throw him into the only room that has two doors that can be closed. And windows that can be broken. And probably easily enough for Sam to make an escape as soon as everyone is asleep.

But right now he lands on the arm, where the bullet grazed him and groans in pain. There isn’t a lot of blood, not enough to actually kill him, but it hurts and it’ll just keep getting worse.

He looks around the room, while two Shoreline soldiers drag him towards the most stable looking wall and attach cable ties to a big post that pokes out of it and his hands. Sam waits until they left the room to stand up and raise his arms. He’s not tall enough to lift the tie around it, but the wall looks stable enough to climb high enough to slip off.

_Idiots._

“Don’t even think about it,” Rafe suddenly says behind him, before dismissing the soldiers. Sam turns around to him and anger rushes through him.

Rafe rolls his eyes, as if Sam is being the unreasonable one. At least he didn’t try to kill the brother of the man whose help he needs. But he doesn’t think that Rafe gets it, doesn’t think that Rafe can even grasp the impact something like this can have on a person. He’s a spoilt only child who doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Sam learned that in the two years they spent together.

“Give me your arm.” Rafe kneels down beside him, antiseptic and a bandage in his hands and Sam raises his eyebrows, before pressing his arm as tight against his body as possible.

“Since when do you have to play nursemaid?”

Rafe pulls on his arm in vain. “Since you and your brother killed hundreds of well-trained soldiers.”

The thought of a bunch of mercenaries being scared of being alone in a room with him fills him with glee. It’s even enough to distract him from worrying about how Nate will manage to follow them.

Rafe suddenly huffs and get’s out a knife. Sam flinches, before one zip tie gets cut and his hurt arm is free. It falls down to his side and Sam grunts in pain.

He pulls on the other tie, when Rafe is busy pushing his sleeve up, but it doesn’t even give one inch.

“Stay still,” Rafe says and Sam hisses, when the antiseptic gets brushed over his wound.

When Rafe speaks next, his voice is quiet. “This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t left.”

Sam laughs. “This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t tried to kill Nate.”

Rafe looks at him with that look again. Like Sam is the one who is crazy and not him. “I didn’t need him anymore.”

“And you don’t think that there is something wrong with people becoming disposable as soon as they’re not valuable to your plan anymore?”

Rafe doesn’t answer that and Sam knew he wouldn’t. He’s spent enough time around Rafe to know that Rafe really doesn’t get it. Rafe judges people on their usefulness and their behaviour and when one doesn’t please him anymore, he stops caring altogether.

And he knows that Rafe will kill him as soon as they’re done. So getting away now is his only chance.

But somehow he must have underestimated Rafe, because by the time his arm is clean and bandaged, he has put the knife somewhere, Sam can’t see and reach it. Seems like Rafe doesn’t trust him anymore.

“Listen,” Rafe starts. “I’m sorry for how this turned out, but as soon as we find Avery’s treasure you’ll be free. And of course you’ll get a cut.”

“You think I want a cut after what you did?” Finding the treasure had always been his and Nate’s thing and it would be again as soon as Sam was free again.

“You deserve it.”

Sam shakes his head and laughs. “You can’t just buy people’s forgiveness with money, especially not after what you did.”

“I’m not looking for forgiveness, I didn’t do any- I just want your cooperation. We made a good team.”

“Well, my cooperation went out of the window. Or … over a cliff.”

For the fraction of a second, Rafe looks actually sorry. But then the emotion is gone and replaced with anger and disappointment.

“Nate didn’t even want to find it at this point, Sam, you had to fucking lie to him to get him away from his life. I don’t get why you …” Rafe stops and rakes his fingers through his hair. “I don’t get why that couldn’t be enough for you.”

He can’t quite grasp the emotion that lies behind Rafe’s words, but he doesn’t have an answer anyway. Avery had always been his and Nate’s thing. Rafe had been a welcome help fifteen years ago – and Sam had been the one who had pulled him on board anyway, blinded by what he thought was generosity and interest, but what had turned out to be nothing more than ego - but he had never been a part of their team.

“Because you’re not Nathan Drake,” Sam simply says, expecting this to hurt the most. And it does, because a nerve ticks in Rafe’s jaw and he clenches his fists, before he calms himself down again.

“You know your devotion to your brother is admirable, but incest is actually frowned upon in most cultures.”

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you.” Rafe might be envious of all the things over people have done on their own, that he himself got handed to him, but in all those years Sam had never known him to be a jealous person. Sam had always been the easily jealous one.

Again, Rafe doesn’t answer and Sam can see just how much this is eating at him. He hadn’t expected Rafe to actually care this much. After all, Rafe doesn’t care about people who disappoint him.

“Yeah, well maybe I expected you to be different.”

“Why? Because we fucked a few times?” Sam has also known Rafe long enough to see how many different men and women Rafe had sex with and while he is in no position to judge, Rafe had always been abundantly clear that their little thing was for when they were out and alone with nothing else to do. Rafe doesn’t do relationships, mostly – Sam had always suspected - because nobody could stand him for more than a few hours at a time.

“Or is it because you got dumped for the first time?” Rafe’s whole body tenses. Oh, so that’s how it is.

Rafe had always got everything he always wanted – not matter how much he resents it – and that had always included the people he wanted.

“You think I’m hung up over _you_?” Rafe laughs and it sounds fake.

“I think you tried to kill my brother because you just needed me as you said yourself and now you’re in here, even though you could have ordered any of those soldiers to do it. You are their employer after all.”

Rafe swallows and clenches his fingers into fists. Sam suddenly realises just how much emotional control he might have over Rafe.

Definitely enough to reach that knife.

He reaches out with his free hand and grabs the front of Rafe’s shirt, pulling him forward and pressing their mouths together.

He expects Rafe to hit him, to fight him, to freeze up or do anything else that is rational, but instead Rafe’s lips are pliant underneath is, opening up and welcoming his tongue inside.

Sam isn’t sure if he wants him to fight to let out some of his aggression or if this is easier to get what he wants. The latter probably.

And he just knows the way to get Rafe’s attention.

He moves his hand from his shirt to the back of Rafe’s head, burying his fingers in the dark hair and pulls back. The noise that comes out of Rafe’s mouth is embarrassing loud and his pupils dilate over the dark brown circle around them, making his eyes appear blue in the soft light of the sunset.

“Are you really that easy?” he asks. He expects Rafe to be angry, to spew some vile insult at him, but not to just sit there and nod.

 _Oh boy_ , seems like Rafe hasn’t been properly fucked in a while.  

“Come here,” he orders because he knows how much of a slut Rafe is for orders. He likes to be in control of every other aspect of his life, but the second he had realised that Sam could take it from him during their sexual encounters, nothing had ever been the same.

And just like Sam knew he would, Rafe drops down to his knees and crawls over to him, his legs spread over Sam’s lap.

He pulls Rafe’s head forward by his hair again, biting his lips and pushing his tongue inside. Rafe puts one hand on his jaw, the other starts sneaking under his shirt and Sam forces his head back again, ignoring the whine that comes out of his mouth.

“Why don’t we cut me loose?” As soon as he has both hands, he can make a grab for the knife while holding Rafe down. Otherwise, he might need to resort to more drastic measures to steal the knife without it being noticed. And he’s not sure if he’s comfortable with that at the moment and with this person.

Rafe blinks once, twice, seemingly needing a moment to get a grip on himself again, before his eyes flicker to Sam’s bound hand.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?”

Sam doesn’t dare to comment on that and just shrugs. “It was worth a try.” Seems like he’ll have to think of another way to get the knife without Rafe noticing.

With the way they’re going he feels like there might be a way.

“Get up,” he orders again and Rafe looks annoyed at having to change positions again. But he goes without complaining and Sam follows him, stumbles to his feet. He crowds Rafe against the pole he’s cuffed too, kissing him again while his bound hand slips into the back of his pants to make a grab for the knife while Rafe is distracted.

But there is no knife.

He feels around Rafe’s waistband, trying to figure out where the knife carrier is supposed to be until Rafe pulls back. His lips are wet and swollen and he looks as fuckable as ever.

“Are you looking for something?” he asks and Sam swallows.

“Lube?”

Rafe blinks and bites his lips. “I have some in my jacket.” The jacket he’s not wearing right now. “But…” he trails off and hits Sam’s hand to let him go, before slipping out under his arm. Sam’s gaze follows him to the first aid kit, where he pulls out a package of lube.

“No condoms,” Rafe says and Sam doesn’t care because he knows how peculiar Rafe is about his health and he hasn’t fucked anyone without a condom since he left Rafe. But there is something that really catches his interest.

The knife.

It’s lying next to the first aid kit, way out of Sam’s reach. Rafe was right, he thought he was an idiot who would keep a weapon on him while being in close proximity of Sam.

Anger curses through him at being so stupid, at Rafe being so smart and ruining this.

“You changed your mind?” Rafe says, suddenly in front of him and the package slips into his front pocket. Sam swallows. His dick is hard against his zipper and he has no idea how to explain to Rafe why he doesn’t want to fuck him anymore – and god there is a really dark part of him that wants to fuck him until he screams for help. So he does, what Sam Drake does best. He dives head first into it.

“You might need to convince me.” He looks down on the bulge in his pants and Rafe follows his eyes.

“Really?” But he’s already dropping to his knees, opening Sam’s zipper with practiced fingers and pushing pants and underwear out of the way.

The second nothing separates them anymore, Rafe is on him, closing his mouth on the tip and swallowing as much down as he can. And that’s a lot. Rafe isn’t the best oral sex he’s ever had, but he comes near close, because he has absolutely no self-preservation, he’s messy about and he once described to Sam that the feeling of his throat closing around a cock could get him off quicker than jerking himself off and fucking his prostate at the same time.

Rafe always enjoys himself. Even now when Sam threads his fingers into his hair again and forces him up and down, fucking his mouth with short hard thrusts. Rafe laps as his dick whenever Sam pulls back. When Rafe suddenly swallows around him, he is the one who nearly chokes and pulls him off. Fuck, he’s close. Too close for his own good, even though the thought of him coming over Rafe’s face and watching the come dribble down, while Rafe sits there with his cock straining against his pants, desperate to come is tempting.

He realises in that moment, that that is not what he wants.

He wants to give Rafe exactly what he wants – what he craves. He wants to lure him into a false sense of security only to take everything away from him, when he and Nate find Avery’s treasure.

“Already done, old man?” Rafe mocks him, even though Sam is only seven years older than him.

“Shut up,” he growls and tugs at Rafe’s hair to get him up. Rafe follows without another quip and grunts when Sam presses him face first against the pole. He presses his lips against Rafe’s neck, right under his ear and Rafe backs into it, closes his eyes and moans. Taking his hand finally out of Rafe’s hair, he starts tugging at his pants and Rafe gets the idea soon enough, fumbling at the buttons holding it together. As soon as it’s open Sam pushes the pants and his underwear down, revealing Rafe’s ass. It’s one of the things he immediately liked about him, back then, when they first meet. Rafe had been thin at the age of twenty-one, more a swimmer or runner, but his ass had always been great.

He squeezes his cheeks with one hand and Rafe turns his head around to him, mouths and tongues colliding again, while he fishes for the packet of lube in his pocket.

It takes him longer than usual to open it and Sam only realises that he takes so long, because he swallows the curse that comes out of his mouth, when they kiss again.

“You know I could do that if I had both arms free,” he jokes and Rafe bites him.

But then the package is open and it gets pushed into Sam’s hand. Handling it one-handed is harder than he thought it would be so he just squeezes everything out of it and lets it fall to the floor, before pushing two fingers into Rafe’s hole.

Rafe screams.

Sam thinks about stopping for a second, things about going slow on him, but then Rafe lets his head fall against his shoulder and closes his eyes.

He spreads his fingers, prepping Rafe without even grazing his prostate and Rafe whines low in his throat. His hips start moving back against Sam’s fingers and his head turns toward Sam’s.

“Just do it.”

“You think you’re ready?” This had been enough when they were regularly fucking, but it’s been a long time. Then… Rafe probably finds his pleasure elsewhere. There are a lot of soldiers around him, and those guys had always been his type. “Have you been fucking around?”

Rafe laughs. “Are you jealous?”

Sam pulls his fingers out, ignoring Rafe’s whine and spreads the remaining lube from them on his cock and pushes in without another word. The tight heat around his cock is nearly too much for him, but he doesn’t slow down, doesn’t take a moment to collect himself. He’s going too fast and too rough, but Rafe pushes back against him, one of his hands sneaking around Sam’s neck grip his hair, the other one gripping the pole, to steady himself.

“How many?” he asks and Rafe laughs. With the next thrust Sam pushes him forward, flush against the pole, not caring how much it might splinter or hurt. He wants it to hurt.

“At the same time?” Rafe laughs and Sam hits his ass with his hand, while the one on the pole is finally close enough to wrap around his neck and squeeze. From this position he can’t actually strangle him, but the second his hand comes even close to doing so, Rafe’s whole body closes around him, coaxing a strangled noise out of Sam.

“There was one-“ Rafe stops talking, when Sam slams home and pulls immediately out again, setting a punishing rhythm. Alas, the silence is only for a short time. “I think they were cousins, three of them and _ah_ , they, _fuck_ , they didn’t want to take turns.”

Sam squeezes Rafe’s neck at the thought and buries his nails in Rafe’s hip. “You take them all at once?” he asks, his voice hoarse and Rafe nods.

“One in my mouth,” Rafe moans, when Sam’s cock pushes against his prostate with the next push and pants against the pole. “Two in my ass.”

“Slut,” Sam says, tone condescending and Rafe squeezes his eyes shut and swallows. “You’re a spoilt slut, who can’t wait for each of them, no, you got to have it all at once, don’t you?”

Rafe nods, tears prickling in his eyes.

“You like choking on a cock when you come?”

“God, yes.”

“You enjoyed yourself?”

“Yes,” Rafe pushes back against him and Sam wants to hit him, to strangle him, to hurt him. He’s close and he’s jealous and he fucking hates Rafe.

“But not as much as with you,” Rafe sobs, when Sam finally reaches around and touches his cock and Sam stills for a second, before moving again, harder and faster this time.

“What?”

“I wanted it to be you, all of them, but you weren’t there, because you left and I, oh god, please right there, you just fucking left.” Rafe voice breaks at the end of the last work and Sam feels his cock twitch in his hand. Rafe’s hole contracts around his cock and it’s enough to take make him see stars.

When it’s over and he pulls out of Rafe, the air is cold against his cock and he brushes sweat from his brow, before tucking his cock in again. Come trickles out of Rafe’s hole and he gets mesmerised by it for a second, until he realises that can’t get the button to close one handed. Just as he is to ask Rafe, the other man has ducked around under his arm.

He’s silently cursing and his whole body is shaking and if Sam wasn’t ten seconds post-orgasm he would probably feel bad for how he treated him.

“You okay?” he asks instead and Rafe freezes, his shoulders as tense as a brick wall.

“Fine,” he says and before Sam can say anything else, he has left the room, the door creaking loudly in its angles.

It only occurs to Sam that Rafe left the first aid kit after he has sat down.

And even in the dark he can see the knife lying on the floor, forgotten by its owner and out of reach for him.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've enjoyed this fic, consider leaving a comment or following me on [tumblr](http://everknowing.tumblr.com).


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